Break
by Sarcastic Realist
Summary: Had she imagined everything? The dinner, the almostkiss near the drain, the smiles… [WC]
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Set after 'Bodies in Motion.' I do not own anyone. WCR. Review, please. Capische? Merci._**

**Break**

_**I. Bombshell**_

At last in the safe security of her office, she sank into the plush, burgundy padding of the desk chair and sucked in a breath. She was almost positive it had been the first full one she'd taken since Warrick's announcement earlier that night. It had sent her reeling; the finality of it rocked her to the core.

He was married.

_Married_. The word echoed over and over in her mind, taunting and cutting and dripping with inevitability.

She hadn't been convincing, she knew that, and she didn't need to be. He knew she was attracted to him; hell, she thought he was attracted to her, too. _I guess not. _Even in her mind, her confession sounded abnormally caustic.

"At least it wasn't a public wedding," she muttered under her breath. She jumped when a soft, almost hesitant knock came at the door. Massaging her temples with her index fingers, she took a chance and called, "Come in," making no move to open her closed eyes or get out of the chair- or out from behind the desk, for that matter. She wasn't going to look, she wasn't going to get up, she wasn't-

"Catherine?"

Her eyes flew open involuntarily. It was Grissom.

"I thought you had to go pick up Lindsay from school," he said, ice-blue eyes searching her own cerulean ones. There was no accusation in his quiet tone, merely compassionate and evenly curious.

"I lied." Hopefully that answer would satisfy him; he didn't care anyway. The man couldn't even see a foot past his own nose. _Sarcastic again, _an inner voice chided. She sighed, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. "She's at home already."

"Would you like a ride?" he asked carefully, knowing full well he was skating on thin ice. He waited patiently for her reply, concluding after a moment that there was always a possibility that he might not get one. She looked miserable, and his heart ached for her.

A minute passed. He came around her desk and held out his hand, inviting her simply to take it. She did so without a word, and he refused to let go until they reached his Tahoe, where he opened the door for her and reluctantly extracted his hand from her tight grasp. She immediately placed both hands in her lap, clenching them into tight fists and breathing deeply. He jogged around to the other side and slid in the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot of the Las Vegas Police Department.

The majority of the drive was spent in complete silence, with Grissom catching glances at his distressed companion every few minutes, and Catherine staring out the window absently.

"I'm okay, Gil."

He clamped down hard on his tongue to keep from arguing with her. "I know."

"Do you?" She turned to face him. The afternoon sunlight shone through the window and cast a shadow on her face, hiding most of her facial features.

"No. You're not fine, he's not fine, nobody's fine."

Despite herself, a hint of a smile touched the corners of her lips. "'S that right…" She left it open, leaving him to wonder whether it had been a question or a derisive retort.

A tiny, almost imperceptible nod was all that emerged from the entomologist. "Mhmm."

She was silent, having absolutely nothing to say to that.

"And," he continued, more or less dryly, "Yes, I can see past my own nose. Sara and I have been together around four months."

Her smile grew.

"You hide it well."

Another nod. "It's for the best." He paused and tilted his head to one side, as if wrestling with the idea of adding something. "For others, maybe not quite so much." With that, he pulled into her driveway and yanked the Tahoe into park. "Would you like some company?" He opted to respect her decision, whatever she chose.

"That's okay, Grissom. You go ahead." She unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed out of the vehicle. He got out and walked her to the door, listening to the sounds of the autumn leaves crunching under his feet and the wind rustling through the trees. In a rare and quiet display of tenderness, he gave her a gentle hug before she disappeared inside.

"Thank you," she said, and closed the door.

"You're welcome," he replied simply, but she didn't hear him.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I decided to do something different and not make Lindsay act like a witch. I think she's really cute, and I wanted her to be there for her mom. Same with Sara. I thought it'd be nice for them to get along. **_

**II. Regret**

Had she imagined everything? The dinner, the almost-kiss near the drain, the smiles…

_Get over yourself, Willows._

"Mommy?"

Her gaze flitted to the door briefly, spotting her daughter, clad in pink silk pyjamas and a fleece blue robe, standing in the doorway, regarding her worriedly and biting her lip.

_She's been through so much. _Catherine realized this and blinked to avoid the rush of tears that threatened to overflow onto her cheeks. That was all it took for the small twelve-year-old to dart across the room to her mother's bed, climbing in beside her and hugging her tight. "I love you, Mom," she whispered, and the tears fell.

Tears for her daughter, who lost her father at the worst possible time and her mother who worked so much they barely spoke, who spent a good deal of time alone. Tears for herself, for pain of losing the man she had come so close to loving, for Grissom and Sara, who finally found each other, for Nick, so incredibly grateful that he was alive. She cried, and cried, and cried, holding her precious daughter near, all the while knowing that Lindsay was the only thing she had left.

-----

She woke up the next morning and fumbled for the phone beside her bed. "I'm sick," she murmured tersely to Grissom before hanging up and forcing her eyes open. She was lying in bed, quilts tightly wrapped around her and a breakfast tray on her bedside table. Clearing her throat, she called out hesitantly, "Lindsay? Honey, you here?"

Her daughter appeared in the doorway. "How did you sleep, Mom?"

"Fine." Catherine closed her eyes again and sank back into the mountain of pillows behind her head. "Thank you, baby."

"You're welcome." Lindsay perched on the edge of the bed. "I brought you orange juice."

Her mother smiled. "That was very sweet of you."

Breakfast was quietly comforting, and Catherine took her daughter to school and came back home without complaint. She made herself comfortable on the couch with a movie, popcorn, and a warm wool blanket, and settled down to watch, drifting off into a fitful sleep…

Her eyes snapped open when a small chime came at the door. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she stumbled to the door and opened it cautiously. "Sara."

Sara stepped forward and simply offered her a hug, not speaking. When she drew back, she said only two words: "I'm sorry."

Something in her snapped. "Why is everyone sorry? My life isn't over, I'm not going to brood over him, I'm just sick." She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. She stepped inside and opened the door wider, silently inviting the brunette to come in.

"Are you?"

With a small chuckle, Catherine replied, "Now you're starting to sound like Grissom."

Sara smiled. "He kind of grows on you."

She nodded. "Yeah." Leading the way to the kitchen, she added, "I was just watching a movie. If you want, I have some coffee, or tea, whatever you prefer…" She knew she was carrying on, but Sara stopping by was something she had not expected. They had never been close; civil, maybe, but never had they gotten together outside of work, save exceptions with team outings.

"Water is fine, thanks."

Catherine poured two glasses and handed one to the woman beside her. "Why don't we sit in the living room," she suggested. "It might be more relaxing."

Sara nodded and turned to go back to the living room, taking a seat on one end of the couch while Catherine settled in the plush armchair next to it.

"So, tell me why you're really here." The blonde tilted her head to one side. "What about Warrick?"

Sara blinked. "Who says I'm here to listen to you pour your heart out regarding the man you love?"

"You're a woman," Catherine replied succinctly, "that's what we do."

Sara laughed and took a sip of her water. "Would reading minds also be part of our natural jobs?"

"Along with other things."

They both laughed that time.

Sara didn't prod, didn't pressure, didn't even ask about the dark-skinned, dark-haired, blue-eyed man that had completely captured her heart and thrown it away in the blink of an eye. She simply listened to whatever Catherine had to say, whether it was about Warrick or not.

When Sara left, Catherine hugged her quickly. "I regret not doing anything, Sara, but you've helped me. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Sara smiled, and waved as she headed down the driveway.

_**A/N: Please keep reviewing. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Thanks for the reviews. This is the second last chapter. Hope you like, and keep reviewing._  
**

**III. Judgement**

"So, where's the wife?" Nick joked as he walked in uninvited and plunked down beside his friend on the couch.

"Tina," Warrick corrected albeit automatically and flicked off the television, turning to face him. "Don't you ever knock, my dear friend?"

"What do you care?" The Texan shot back, taking in his surroundings. "She hasn't made you clean up yet?"

"No." Warrick sighed.

Nick caught his gaze. "What's up, 'Rick? Aren't you s'posed to be happy when you get married? In case you forgot, that's a _good _thing to do."

"Not if you regret it," the black man muttered.

Nick sat up straighter. "Really… care to share?"

"No."

A quirky smile touched Nick's lips. "Next question: how pissed was Cath?"

"Do you have a good reason for being here?"

Nick smirked. "That answers question number two." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "What next…"

"Nicky, my man, I'm starting to not like you."

Frowning, Nick replied, "Fine. I'll get straight to the point." Seeing he had Warrick's full attention, he forged on. "Why the _hell_ did you get married, man? You and Cath have been dancing circles around each other for _years_!"

It was Warrick's turn to frown.

"Nick, you're on borderline…" he warned softly, but the Texan took no notice.

"Honestly, 'Rick, I think you're taking my ordeal harder than I am. I never thought you'd make such a jackass move! Even Greg wouldn't do that!" Nick exhaled heavily. "Sorry, buddy, I just don't get it." His brow furrowed in frustration.

Warrick's cobalt blue eyes grew sad. "I don't know, Nicky, I don't know why."

"Do you know what an annulment is?"

Warrick chuckled in spite of himself. "It's not _that _easy."

"_You're _the one making it difficult," Nick retorted. "Seriously, 'Rick, It's not that complicated. Explain to Betty-"

"Tina."

"-whatever… _anyway_, explain to Helen that you're not in love with her and getting married was a mistake," Nick went on, ignoring Warrick's now outright laughter, "get an annulment, profess your undying love for Cath, and live happily ever after."

"Nick, this is Vegas, remember?"

"So?"

In that still, silent moment in time, Warrick's mind flew back to that afternoon…

"'_Cause sometimes you don't seem like you're really happy for me."_

"_Warrick…" she sighed and laughed nervously, "You know, the thing that makes a fantasy great is the possibility that someday it might happen…" she shrugged. "And when you lose that possibility… it just kinda… sucks." _

He shook his head. That's what she thought of him. She didn't love him; he was a fantasy.

When he voiced his thoughts aloud, Nick shook his head disgustedly. "I thought you were better than that, man. I thought you were better than all this shit. I really did." He stood up and headed for the door. "Call me when you're in your right mind again."

Warrick sighed. It was the truth, and he had spoken it. So why did he feel so bad?

'Cause it wasn't the truth.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they really encouraged me. This is the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed the story!_  
**

**IV. Amends**

"We need to talk."

"I know." She looked at the ground. "It was a bad idea, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "Tina…"

"No." She shook her head. "Let me explain."

He half-smiled. "It's not your fault, it's mine."

"No, it's not."

They both laughed nervously. "We can't be married, Warrick. It's too weird," she paused, "and- I have something to tell you… I'm in love with someone else." She concluded, and dropped her gaze once more to the floor.

He grinned. "Me too."

Her head snapped up. "How stupid were we?"

"Very." Warrick stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Let's go."

**-----**

The weight of the ring on his finger had felt foreign at first, and now its absence was another concept to get used to. He smiled faintly as he walked into work towards the locker room, hoping he would find a certain strawberry-blonde along the way.

When he didn't, he wandered into the break room and when she wasn't there either, or in her office, he strode to Grissom's. "Hey, Griss, where's Catherine?"

Grissom eyed him suspiciously.

"I need to talk to her" was his explanation, feeling self-conscious with his boss's intense blue gaze boring into him.

Grissom's face remained serene, not revealing a thing. "She took the day off."

Warrick closed his eyes, a mere sign of his frustration. "Thanks. I guess I'll talk to her tomorrow, then." He'd call her later, but he wasn't about to divulge that fact to the entomologist in front of him. He turned on one heel and was in the doorway when Grissom's voice stopped him.

"I'm not stupid, Warrick."

The dark-skinned CSI grimaced and turned around. "I didn't mean to-"

Grissom held up a hand, chuckling softly. "Go to her, Warrick. It's a slow night; we'll be fine."

With a short nod of thanks, the younger man fairly ran out the door and out to his vehicle.

**-----**

_Chicken, _an inner voice taunted her.

Catherine frowned and scrubbed her head vigorously, ridding her hair of the shampoo. Quickly rinsing and conditioning it, she stepped out of the shower and dressed in worn black jeans and a v-neck tee-shirt. She was halfway done drying her hair when the doorbell rang.

"Warrick."

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Her gaze drifted to the floor, and on the way down spotted his bare ring finger. Her head snapped back up to meet his eyes, and the love in them startled her.

She lifted her hand to run it through her still-wet hair and he caught it in his, interlacing their fingers.

"I'm sorry." The words were spoken with clear sincerity and nothing else.

He gazed at her, content to memorize the details of her face; the curve of her neck, the outline of her lips, her clear cerulean eyes.

She dropped her eyes to the floor, and he put his hand under her chin, running his thumb along her jaw line. Her lips parted, and she took a wavering breath. "I know."

The vulnerability in her expression did him in. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, hugging her as if he would never let go. She drew back slightly to study his face, knowing she wanted to remember this moment for the rest of her life.

"I love you, Cath."

"I know."

He kissed her then.


End file.
